


This Altar is My Hips

by oneoneandone



Series: Lover [3]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone
Summary: I know heaven's a thingI go there when you touch me, honeyHell is when I fight with youBut we can patch it up goodMake confessions and we're begging for forgivenessGot the wine for you
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: Lover [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982191
Kudos: 61





	This Altar is My Hips

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt**   
>  _"And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?" made me laugh out loud. Can you do that for O’Solo please?_

Tobin laughed at the look on her girlfriend’s face, the indignation there. 

“Right now,” she leaned forward to press her lips just over the gentle throbbing of Christen’s pulse in her neck, “just over your hips, feeling the way you sway against me, all warm and needy.” 

And Chris’s eyes blazed with barely tamped fire. “Oh no, Tobin Heath,” she said, removing Tobin’s hands herself as she stepped back, “don’t even think about it.” 

She crossed her arms as she stared her reedy lover down, frustration and anger bubbling just under her skin. And Tobin couldn’t help it, she laughed, smiling at the sheer vision of it. 

Christen mad was a sight to behold, for sure. The way her eyes got heated, her lips a thin, disappointed line. How she lost her words, one of the most eloquent women Tobin had every known–speechless, tripping over consonants and mixing metaphors. 

Adorable, and it just made Tobin want to push her buttons all the time. To spark that fire, to hear that sharp, edgy tone. 

But she never could maintain it. And it was a little point of pride Tobin carried around in the pocket of her heart that Christen could never stay too mad at her for too long. 

Even now, she looked into those passionate eyes, and already saw the calm beyond the choppy waves. 

“Okay, okay,” she whispered, stepping close again and slipping her hands over the firm curve of Christen’s ass. “I’m sorry,” Tobin pressed her lips over Christen’s jaw again. “You’re right, _Khaleesi_ is a completely rational name for a dog that’s afraid of her own shadow.” 

She swayed with Chris in the cool fall breeze that seemed to swirl around them, feeling the way the woman she loved relented, giving her anger, her annoyance, up to the wind, let it float away into the quiet evening air. 

Her hands skimmed up, feeling the muscle and sinew and bone, settling over Christen’s hips, rocking gently with her as the sun slowly disappeared into the West, the night sky full of hopes and dreams. 

And Christen sighed softly, and then kissed her. “It’s not fair,” she smiled against Tobin’s lips, “you know your hands on my hips are my weakness.” 

But Tobin just smiled and kissed her. 


End file.
